Blue and Gold
by lahmrh
Summary: K/S role reversal AU. Captain Spock sends Science Officer Kirk on a mission that proves to be more dangerous than expected.


Author's Note: Written for thedevilchicken in the Alternate Universe exchange.

 **Blue and Gold**

"So have you decided who's going on the landing party?" Kirk asks as he moves a rook. The words are said casually, as if they are of no importance, but Spock doesn't miss the excitement in his eyes.

"You mean, have I decided if _you_ will be going on the landing party," he says, reaching out to counter Kirk's move.

Kirk grins sheepishly, his cheeks reddening. "Am I that predictable?"

"I prefer to think of it as dependable," Spock tells him. "And for the record, the answer is yes, Jim, I have included you in my selection. They will require a science officer, and you are the obvious choice for that role. In fact," he continues, "If you are agreeable, I would like for you to take command of this mission."

"Really?"

Spock nods. "As I recall, you mentioned an interest in becoming a captain yourself one day. This will be good experience for you."

The smile Kirk gives him is blinding, making Spock feel oddly breathless. There is something about Kirk's smiles that he has never quite been able to quantify – it is as if they make the room brighter somehow.

"I won't let you down," Kirk promises, making warmth spark in Spock's chest.

"Of that, I have no doubt," he replies.

x x x

They enter the Lambda system at precisely 0948 the next day, and Spock orders a standard orbit around their target, Lambda V.

"No response to my hails," Uhura reports. "I'll keep trying."

"Have you isolated the source of the signal?" Spock asks.

"Yes, sir. I've got the co-ordinates here."

"There's signs of a civilisation," Kirk says from his position at the science station. "But I'm not picking up any life-signs." He makes some adjustments and adds, "It's hard to be sure, though. There's some kind of interference in the readings."

Spock steeples his fingers in thought. "Is it safe to beam down?"

"Yes, sir. Class M, temperature within normal parameters, no obvious contaminants. The atmosphere's a little thin, but it should be fine as long as we don't do anything too athletic."

Spock nods. "Very well," he says, and toggles the intercom. "Lieutenant Palamas, Doctor McCoy and two security personnel to the transporter room." He flicks the switch again and rises from his seat. "Mr Sulu, you have the conn. Mr Kirk, with me."

Kirk follows him into the turbolift, the doors sliding shut behind them. "Transporter room," Spock orders, before turning to address his companion. "You will contact me every thirty minutes," he tells Kirk, "and you are not to take any unnecessary risks."

"I know, I know," Kirk replies. "Don't worry, I'll do this by the book." He hesitates, then adds softly, "I really appreciate you giving me this opportunity, sir."

"It was the logical thing to do," Spock tells him, and Kirk smiles.

Lieutenant Palamas is already waiting in the transporter room when Kirk and Spock arrive, along with security personnel Jenkins and Garcia. They have to wait a few minutes longer for McCoy, who arrives ruffled and scowling.

"You enjoy this," he accuses Spock. "Sending me down to unexplored planets to contract God only knows what. Twelve people in my department, but no, it's always me!"

"Calm yourself, Doctor," Spock replies, well acquainted by now with the doctor's eccentricities. It is fortunate for McCoy that he is, despite his quirks, an excellent physician, or Spock would have had him transferred off the ship years ago. "I assure you, your constant complaining is the opposite of enjoyable."

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Kirk bite his lip, holding back a laugh. "Come on, Bones," he says, stepping forward and laying a hand on the doctor's arm. "The sooner we beam down, the sooner this'll all be over."

McCoy gives Spock one last glare, then turns away and allows Kirk to lead him up onto the transporter platform. "Fine," he says. "But don't blame me when we all get some kind of space plague and start bleeding from the eyeballs."

Kirk's eyes flick to Spock with amusement as the rest of the landing party take their places around them, but his expression quickly changes to one of determination. "Energise."

x x x

Spock feels an odd sense of restlessness as he sits on the bridge, perusing reports but with part of his attention focused on any news from the landing party. For his part, Kirk is as good as his word, checking in regularly with updates on their progress. According to him, they are closing in on the site of the signal, but have still not found any signs of life.

"Commander Kirk for you," Uhura reports from her station.

Spock straightens in his chair. Their next check-in is not for another eight minutes, so they must have found something. "Put it on audio, Lieutenant."

Kirk's voice comes through clearly. "We've found the source of the signal, Captain. It's a recording, and it's old. Very old. Centuries at least."

"And you have still not encountered any life signs?"

"None, sir. And based on this, I doubt we're going to." There's a pause before he adds wistfully, "It's a shame, though. If these statues are true to life they were a fascinating species."

"I am sure," Spock says with a spark of fondness. "How do you wish to proceed?"

"Well, Palamas wants to take a closer look at some of the architecture, so I thought we'd make one more sweep and then beam back up."

"Very well," Spock replies. "Keep me informed of any changes. Spock out."

It is exactly six minutes later that the transporter room calls. The landing party is calling for emergency beam out. Kirk has been injured.

x x x

Spock makes it down to the transporter room in record time. McCoy is kneeling next to Kirk, who is lying on the floor. Spock crosses the room in a few long strides, feeling his heart constrict at the sight of Kirk with what looks like an arrow through his shoulder, his blue shirt dark with blood. "What happened?" he asks.

"Jenkins stepped on some kind of booby trap," McCoy replies tersely, running a scanner over Kirk's body. "Jim pushed him out of the way."

"I didn't see it," Jenkins puts in, from where he's applying pressure to Kirk's wound.

"Wasn't your fault," Kirk puts in. His expression is creased with pain, but he manages a weak smile as he meets Spock's eyes. "So much for my first command."

"There will be others," Spock tells him. It takes effort to keep his voice steady, and a spark of fear goes through him as Kirk suddenly gasps and grabs at McCoy's wrist, the other hand going to his chest.

"Trouble breathing?" McCoy asks sharply, and Kirk nods, his eyes widening with the first signs of panic. Without thinking, Spock reaches for his hand, and Kirk clutches at him gratefully. Spock projects calm, soothing the muddle of emotions he is getting from Kirk, and hears Kirk's breathing become a fraction less frantic in response.

McCoy pulls a hypospray out of his medical bag and injects Kirk before scanning him again. "Damn arrow was poisoned," he mutters. "We have to get him to sickbay."

As if on cue, two medics arrive with a stretcher. Spock helps McCoy lift Kirk onto it, then follows them down to sickbay, his concern growing as Kirk's eyes slip closed.

"Stay with me, dammit," McCoy barks, but to no effect.

Fortunately they reach sickbay a few moments later and McCoy and his staff go about the task of preparing Kirk for surgery. Spock watches until they wheel him in, then goes to find the rest of the landing party, needing to know _exactly_ what happened down on that planet.

x x x

By the time Spock has finished debriefing the other three crewmembers, Kirk is out of surgery. According to McCoy, the procedure to remove the arrow went well, and the damage it caused has already begun to heal. Unfortunately the poison currently burning its way through Kirk's body is much harder to treat.

Kirk is still unconscious when Spock visits him, shivering with fever under his sickbay blankets. He murmurs something under his breath, sounding distressed, and without thinking Spock reaches out to brush a few damp strands of hair off his forehead. "It is all right, Jim," he says. "I am here."

The words seem to calm Kirk, and Spock feels something ease in his chest.

At least, until a voice rings out from behind him. "So you do have a heart. I was beginning to wonder."

Spock straightens up instantly, spinning round to see McCoy observing him from the doorway. "I do not know what you are talking about," he says, clasping his hands safely behind his back.

"Really," McCoy replies, raising an eyebrow. He moves over to Kirk's side to check his readings and adds casually, "You should tell him, you know. When he wakes up."

Spock does not pretend to misunderstand, instead correcting, " _If_ he wakes up." Logic states that one should not ignore the truth just because it is unpleasant, but the idea that Kirk might not recover makes his stomach twist painfully.

"Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine," McCoy retorts. "I meant what I said. Jim's a fighter. If anyone can get through this, he can."

"Indeed," Spock murmurs, still staring at Kirk. He pulls his attention away with an effort and adds, "I have duties to attend to. You will inform me if his condition changes?"

"Of course," McCoy promises.

Spock gives Kirk a final glance, then leaves. Regardless of what has occurred, he is still the captain, and there is always work to be done.

x x x

It is three days before Kirk comes round. Spock knows that, absent relativistic effects, time always passes at the same speed, but these three days still seem to pass more slowly than usual.

He is working on a report for Starfleet about the recent mission when McCoy calls. "Kirk's starting to come round," he says. "Thought you'd want to be there."

There are few things Spock wants more. "Understood," he responds. "I am on my way."

Kirk is awake when Spock enters sickbay, lying on his back as McCoy runs a tricorder over him. Spock can see pain and exhaustion etched into the lines of his face, but it doesn't keep him from breaking into a smile at Spock's arrival.

"Spock," he says, then flushes. "I mean, Captain."

The title jars, despite its accuracy. "Jim," Spock replies, putting a slight emphasis on the name. "How are you feeling?"

Kirk rubs his shoulder. "Sore. But I'll be okay."

"You should count yourself lucky," McCoy tells him. "An inch lower and that arrow would've gone through your heart."

Spock;s own heart clenches at the thought. "The crew will be relieved to hear you are recovering," he says to Kirk. "They have been most concerned."

"News travels fast," Kirk replies. "I hope this situation won't count against me the next time you're drawing up landing parties?"

"You did promise to do things by the book," Spock reminds him. "Strictly speaking, putting yourself out of commission by diving in front of a poisoned arrow does not qualify. However," he adds, before Kirk can become discouraged, "your actions were admirable, and I cannot hold them against you. In fact, I intend to recommend you for a commendation."

"Really?" Kirk blinks at him. "I mean, thanks, but you don't have to do that."

"No," Spock agrees. "But I wish to. You have earned it."

"Right," McCoy says, interrupting their discussion. "Far as I can tell everything looks good, the poison's almost out of your body and the wound's healing well. If you're lucky, I might even see fit to releasing you this evening." He fixes Kirk with a look. "Can I trust you to stay put until then, or do I have to handcuff you to the bed?"

"I'll be good," Kirk promises.

McCoy looks from him to Spock and back, then nods. "Then I'll leave the two of you alone to _talk_."

Spock does not miss the emphasis on the last word, but he hopes that Kirk does. He watches the doctor leave the room, then turns back to Kirk, who is staring at him with curiosity.

"I am sorry, Jim," he says quietly. "I should have investigated the planet more carefully before sending you down there. You could have been killed."

Kirk tries to sit up, but winds up lying back down with a wince. "Don't be silly," he says. "All the scans were clear. You couldn't have known what would happen."

"I am the captain," Spock replies. "Any injuries are my responsibility." Especially ones that involve Kirk.

Kirk shakes his head. "I guess we'll have to agree to disagree about that." He frowns and adds, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Spock replies.

"You held my hand. When I was hurt."

Spock stares at him. "That is not a question."

"No, I suppose it wasn't," Kirk replies. "It's just... I've done a lot of research. Into Vulcan rituals and customs, and well, I know what it said about hand holding. That it's... intimate."

"That is true," Spock says, his heart beginning to beat faster at Kirk's words.

"So I guess my question is, did you mean it?"

Spock takes a breath, willing his heart to slow. "At the time," he begins slowly, "my concern for your health outweighed any other concerns. I wished only to offer comfort. However, the way in which that comfort expressed itself was, I believe, influenced by my regard for you."

"So you did mean it."

"Yes," Spock admits, and is rewarded with one of Kirk's room-brightening smiles.

"Oh, thank God," he says. "I was worried I was misreading things." He holds out a hand and Spock takes it, the joy and affection that bursts through the touch leaving him light-headed.

Kirk clears his throat, then says carefully in Vulcan, " _I propose an alliance. May we together become greater than the sum of both of us_."

Spock stares at him in surprise. "You speak Vulcan?"

Kirk flushes. "A little. Uhura's been teaching me." He pauses, then adds, "I couldn't tell her what I really wanted to say, of course, but hopefully it's close enough?"

In truth, Kirk's pronunciation could use some work, but the emotion behind it makes something warm and soft settle in Spock's chest. "It is perfect," he says, then, in Vulcan, " _I accept_."


End file.
